Cobwebs and thyme
by incarnated-soul
Summary: ...This sick strange darkness comes creeping on, so haunting every time...And as I stared I counted the webs from all the spiders catching things and eating their insides... (NW)
1. Default Chapter

'_I'd happily drowse in summer dreams  
__And see in sleep old palaces and towers,  
__Quivering midst cascading stream  
__Of crimson Bougainvillea flowers'  
__-**Bougainvillea** _

England, 1881

_Hatheway house._

Marianne laughed and clapped her hands in delight as she escaped the clutches of her sweet little sister's hands, yet again.

"Come on dolly, come catch me!" she called, her voice becoming a little taunting as she knew she had the upper hand on their little game of Blind man's buff.

Marianne stood watching from the shade of the huge weeping willow, as her little sister blundered about in the sun's heat. There was a slight breeze in which the drooping willow leaves swayed and danced under the hazy sunlight.

Marianne watched with humor as her sister occasionally stumbled on her own feet, only to get up and run around wildly again.

She ran close to her sister and poked her on the back before shooting off to the shelter of the willow tree again- just to tease and taunt her little sister.

She watched gleefully as her sister ran further away from her and on to the other end of their garden, hands flailing about in the empty air. It was not long before the five year old tripped. Marianne simply could not contain her laughter, even though she knew it was very unkind to laugh at a time like such.

"Stop laughing Annie!" her little sister huffed and sulked, "I'm not playing!" She clawed at the blindfold before snatching it off completely.

"Hey! That's cheating! You're not supposed to take that off dolly!" Marianne called out, knowing that their game had come to an end.

"Well, I can't be cheating if I'm not playing anymore! And stop calling me dolly- I'm not your doll!" her little sister retorted before becoming sullen again. She pouted and crossed her arms complaining about how she always had to be 'it'.

Marianne slowly walked over to her sister and sat down on the warm grass next to her. Her fingers roamed about the ground, playing with the greeny, yellow summer grass. They sat in the silence under the warmth of the sun for a little while.

"Awww, I promise I won't laugh again, dolly," Marianne tried to make it up to her. Her sister sniffed and made the show of turning her head the other way.

"Come on, don't be like that. I promise _I'll_ be the it next time."

At this her sister turned to look at her slowly, with the suspicion only a five year old could have. Her eyes were narrowed which made her cute pixie nose upturn more.

"What's in it for you?"

Marianne laughed; her little sister was an absolute angel. Soon the two sisters were both laughing. Marianne pinched her sister's nose affectionately.

"Come on dolly, let's go find momma."

They got up to go- but their beautiful, carefree afternoon was interrupted by a scream.

They both looked at each other in surprise, before instantly turning their heads to where the scream had sounded from: their neighbours' house. The little boy, Will's house.

Without hesitation, they ran to the house with a zeal and bravery only children possessed.

They ran in through the gate fence that divided the two houses and in through the back door which someone had conveniently left open.

As they neared the rooms, which were situated alike to their own house, they heard voices and the unmistakable sound of someone in distress.

Cautiously, they poked their little heads into the room they believed all the commotion to be in and lightly made their way in.

No one had noticed their presence yet so they went closer to the crowd of people in the room, completely undetected.

Their attention was not focused on the little crowd but what had caught the attention of the crowd and kept them standing in such a crowd-like manner. However, they didn't fail to notice the pale looking women who had sort of collapsed on an armchair as if she were completely drained of any energy or the actual will to stand.

Marianne was the first of the two to see the small body on the floor. As she got closer she saw that the body was uncannily still- deathly still.

Being eight years old, Marianne understood the laws of nature and what it meant when someone was 'gone'. Yet what she saw now could not be described as an act of nature- although in a twisted way it was.

She heard someone let out a strangled, terrified squeak beside her which meant that her sister had seen the pale body lying in an odd angle on the floor. It also meant that someone looked up and found the two girls standing there with wide, scared eyes, the rosiness and colour drained out of their faces.

Someone moved out of the crowd ready to take the two innocent children out of the damned room but only succeeded in giving them a better view of the grotesque sight.

As Marianne finally saw the full horror she gasped out in shock and fear. Could something like that possibly happen? Especially to a boy she knew and had once chased down her own garden?

She felt her little dolly grasp and clutch her hand, afraid. She too was afraid. It wasn't normal that an eight and five year old saw a mutilated dead corpse lying bare in front of them, for the entire world to see.

Because in front of them lay the once full of life, energetic body of their neighbour and friend Will, now so very still; it was a mockery to his prior self.

His pink lips were no longer full of life but spoke only of death; they had turned a startling bluey purple in colour. Marianne shivered as she thought of how cold they must be- how cold he must be.

Because no doubt, the natural warmth in everyone's body had left his and not even the sun's agonizing heat could ever bring it back and revive him. His face had drained of all colour and was now a pale milky, white colour. Thankfully, someone had closed his eyes or they would have met his petrified gaze, shocked into shock.

There clearly had been no mercy.

But it wasn't the colour of Will that scared the two girls- it wasn't even the way his hands and feet, his whole body seemed to have been placed at an odd, repulsive angle.

No, it was the fact that there was more than just a few wooden sticks protruding out of his frail body, where they had brutally been plunged into. The sight of a little boy staked at a thousand places was horrifying to even think about- and it was this sight and the amount of blood covering Will that had the two girls terrified so.

Marianne was whimpering slightly without her own knowledge; she didn't know what to do. Her eyes were transfixed at the small dead body; she was unable to tear her gaze away.

It was the weak tug on her hand that caused her to turn and look at her sister's face with concern. Her sister's eyes were wide and had filled with tears and she clearly wanted to leave. Marianne nodded and agreed to leaving at the same time as someone ushered them out of the room.

They in turn were immensely glad to leave it, but Marianne couldn't help but turn back once. She looked one last time at Will's panicked, petrified face before turning around and wiping her eyes.

Her little sister was still clutching her hand as tightly as before, and she could see bluey, purple forming underneath her sister's white hands on her own wrist. There was a bruise forming- and horrifyingly, it was the same colour as little Will's lips.

To Marianne this had become the colour of death and she shut her eyes hard to try and block out the grotesque images of the evening forming in her head.

But she found that the images were not going to leave her.

They had been imprinted into her mind, ruthlessly etched in with permanent ink.

They were destined to haunt her every dream and every memory- causing her to remember the little figure lying helplessly in the large room; his breath stolen by a thousand wooden stakes.

* * *

'_When moonbeams lit the shade,  
__Alight with silver showers,  
__The huntress in the glade,  
__Silently chose her flowers.'  
_**_Rhododendron - Moonlight_**

England, 1893- Present day

_An alleyway outside Regent Park._

Marianne Jolene Hatheway glanced around nervously as she took a short route through an alleyway in the hopes of reaching her home sooner.

She was feeling nervous walking out alone at such a time; it was not only dangerous but also unbecoming for a young lady to be roaming around the streets after dark.

But it had been absolutely necessary to make the late night trip to the apothecary and get medicine for her little sister who had alarmingly fallen ill. It was even more necessary that she get to her house as soon as possible and give her little sister the care and medicine she needed.

Marianne clutched the medicine in the polythene bag tightly to her chest, shielding it from the fragile snowflakes that had started falling to the ground.

If she had had time to spare, she would have stopped to admire the beauty of such a night.

There were no streetlights but because of the faint, eerie glow of the moon you could see the snowflakes illuminated as they fell freely to the ground. The snowflakes lingered long enough to be marvelled at but melted before it could settle- a pity really; London had been looking forward to the snow all winter.

The night was beautiful- the snowflakes were like little pearl drops against a dark, vast chilly sea. It truly was a marvellous sight.

Marianne shivered, partially from the cold and partly because of the snowflake that had fallen on her eyelash. She sighed; her sister would have loved to be out in this snow. With the thoughts of her sister still lingering in her mind, Marianne hurried along wrapping her coat tighter around herself.

It was not long before she started to feel at unease- almost as if there was someone there, watching her. Marianne looked around self-consciously but saw nothing apart from the empty street; she still wasn't reassured however. She started to walk faster but she was tiring, so she slowed her pace down to normal- after all what could possibly happen?

Step, Step _(step), _Step, Step _(step)_

Marianne was growing alarmed with every step she took- and there really _was_ reason to be.

It was like with every two steps she took, she could hear another. Almost like an echo-like step of hers. Almost as if there was someone following her…

Step, Step (step)

There it was again. Someone was trying to match her steps but not quite succeeding.

She wondered if she was imagining it; if it was a figment of her paranoia. But she shook her head; the sound was just too real to be fake. She didn't know which was worse: her going insanely mad or someone purposely following her in an alleyway.

Marianne stopped abruptly. Step…scuff. She stopped and heard a sound close to when your foot scuffs against a pebble- only this time the foot isn't yours.

She almost laughed out aloud in victory- her silent follower had messed up! - had it not been the fact that now she was sure _and_ had evidence that someone was following her.

Marianne nervously glanced behind her- there was still no sign of anyone else there.

She turned around- and almost dropped the medicine in the bag. There was a dark male figure standing in front of her. Well, he wasn't standing right in front of her but leaning against the filthy, postered alley walls.

Numbly, Marianne remembered to breathe.

_Don't panic, Marianne! It's just a passer by, you know- maybe he got tired so he is resting. Just walk by him. Don't look at him. Just walk by him. Be calm, Marianne. Breathe._

She tried to reassure herself as she edged towards the other wall, trying to get as far away from the figure as possible.

It wasn't comforting the way the figure seemed to move slinkily with her, following her yet again. And where had he suddenly appeared from?

They carried on like so for a while before the stranger started moving closer to her, ever so slowly. Marianne was flustered and scared- what should she do? Should she say something?

She tried to walk faster but he matched her pace too easily. Just as she was about to break into a run, he spoke.

"It's not proper for a young lady like such to be walking out alone in the night. _Anything_ could happen to her, and no one would even be there to see it…"

He seemed to be half speaking to her and half to the slow, drizzle of snow.

Marianne stared at him, shocked that he had spoken to her and even more frightened at what she was supposed to do. She was disgusted to see a smile on the man's face- obviously one of those arrogant, cocky males who thought the female sex to be a lesser one.

For some odd reason, Marianne felt angry. Maybe it was because this man had been following her and he had scared her, or because she was worried for her sister or maybe just because she wanted to be. Whatever the reason, Marianne felt herself responding to her anger.

"It is equally improper for a gentleman to be talking to a lone lady after dark _or _following her," she retorted fuelled by her anger, not aware of any consequences or how inappropriately she, herself was acting.

"Ah, but there is the hitch," the man said half whispering and laughing as he sidled closer to her, "Nobody mentioned anything about my being a gentleman." he laughed lightly and mockingly, his face inches from her ear. With growing disgust, she realised the man had actually sniffed at her hair!

Was this man drunk? You did not just walk up to any lady, especially after dark, and talk so intimately to them. This was completely outrageous! And Marianne could not make heads or tail of the absurd situation she found herself in. What was she to do?

Marianne glanced around to see how she could get herself out of the corner, the man had walked her into- of course without touching her, thankfully. He seemed to be aware of what she was thinking because suddenly he put an arm on one side of her body and leaned in the other; completely blocking her potential escape routes.

She glanced around nervously, still clutching the medicine and licked her lips in an act of nervousness. The man was looking at her, eyebrows raised as if waiting for her to do something.

_You've got me backed in a corner in the alleyway, blocking all my possible escape routes and you look at me as if I'm on a flipping show and you want me to dance for you! What do you think I'm going to do! _

"Well, I wouldn't mind it completely if you _were_ to dance for me, Ms Marianne."

Marianne looked up shocked, "How…?" She didn't get a response but the pale, grey eyes she was staring at seemed to be laughing at her. Again there was that anger rising in her.

"How dare you? You insolent man! Let me go right this minute!"

"No one is stopping you, Ms Marianne," he seemed to realise that she didn't like him calling her name, so he did it again just to annoy her. He watched her eyes go wide in anger and laughed inside. _So fiesty._

She pushed his hands which surprised him, he hadn't actually expected her to be brave enough to touch a stranger. But he quickly got over the surprise and pushed her harshly against the wall, locking her against himself. Her eyes grew wide again but this time the anger was replaced by fear.

Marianne gulped; she had no idea what she was going to do. The man had pushed her against the wall and had his hands pressed against the wall, thankfully not touching her. He seemed to be glued to her neck. She squirmed under his touch and tried to push out against him, still clutching the medicine in her hand.

"If you'd just quit fighting…" She heard his mumbled voice say against his ear. She looked around helplessly, anyone? Her thoughts strayed back to her sister and she grew more angry. Her poor sister was ill and this drunkard thought it was funny to play around with an unescorted woman!

She looked around for anything until her eyes caught a glint in the moonlight. Under the long coat he was wearing, she could see the hilt of maybe a knife or a dagger tucked in his belt. This man really was dangerous! But maybe if she could just reach the knife, she could use this danger to her advantage and warn him off.

Marianne was too distracted to make anything out of the sharp cutting pain she suddenly felt at the side of her neck. Her thoughts and energy were solely focused on getting a defense weapon for herself. But she was aware of herself suddenly getting a bit tired, a bit hazy…

The man was breathing heavily against her neck and she could feel his filthy mouth on her neck- she just hoped he was distracted. As quietly and silently as she could, she brought her hands to the front of his body while still managing to keep the medicine safe.

With one quick jerk, she pulled out the blade from its resting place, meaning to jab it at the man to warn him off.

What she had definitely not expected was the knife to come out of its sheath or glint menacingly once in the moonlight. Or the man to suddenly lurch forward as if his actions were not his own.

What she had least expected was the knife to waver before plunging deep into the man, so deep that when she later tried to pull it out she could not. Maybe it was because her hands were shaking violently or maybe the knife had really become intact to his body.

She had not expected the man's body to slump forwards onto her, giving her all his weight. But that particular night the unexpected surely did happen.

Marianne staredwith horror at the collapsed heap on the ground that she had shook off herself. She had no idea what she had just done. Take another's life? Surely not! She was a honest, good hearted woman. She wasn't _capable_ of taking someone else's life, for god's sake!

The whole event had not even registered in her mind properly- it was just too unreal- but she knew straight away she had to get away. She looked at her white, shaking hands and pressed them to her lips to stop the scream that was threatening to come out. And the bile that was slowly rising to her mouth.

Her tears had started to fall but she had no idea why she was even crying. Everything was so dream-like.

It was as if she was not actually in her own body walking away from the body that lay on the streets. It was as if it wasn't her own hands that had just committed murder. Numbly, she realised she was still clutching the medicine dearly, as if it were _her_ life.

Absent-mindedly, she put her fingers to the sharp pain on her neck- her hands came away, wet. And covered with blood that was her own. She cried out- this was not happening to her. She had not killed a man and he had _not_ bitten her.

Marianne started running and she ran and ran under the moonlight and under the snowflakes.

She ran crying all the way to her house, only stopping to catch her breath once.

She ran without looking back once. Ran all the way without looking back once at the place she had just sinned.

She didn't look back once- and maybe _that_ was her real mistake.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Wow! A new story- I've surprised myself! Not particularly one of my favourite inventions but I think its pretty good- I like my title though, don't you? ;) 

If anyone noticed- yes, I have read Chris Wooding's 'The haunting of Alaizabel Cray'- in fact I'm reading it right now. Hmm, maybe I should put a disclaimer up. If no one knows what I'm talking about thats even better!  
Oh, the last part of my story is a tribute to Alfred Noyes'Highwayman- thought I'd mention that while I was blabbering on.

So, ok, I couldn't help being a bit cliche. I just had to add a time honored cliche scene in my first chapter- its like tradition, dude! Anyway whatever it is I hope you enjoyed it. Tell me just how much by reviewing. ;) Btw was the knife part unrealistic? Give me your thoughts on it. Anyways, I'm off to plan how the end of the world is going to happen, so adios amigos- keep those reviews coming in!


	2. Its a pleasure to meet you, again

"Marianne…"

Marianne jerked awake and glanced over to her sister. Her sister had her head propped up on one of her thin elbows; the elbow looking as if it was about to give way any moment. She was supposed to be resting.

"Dolly, is something wrong? Do you want some water?" Marianne asked as concerned as ever, not even noticing that nowadays her sister didn't even protest on being called her childhood nickname.

Marianne looked at her sister's face for a reply, and visibly winced. She had been such a healthy young girl. The pale face staring solemnly at her now was weak and lifeless.

Lifeless. That made Marianne think of something completely different. Something significant nonetheless. Something that had been eating at her for the past few days. Slowly. Cruelly.

She sighed at her forever drifting thoughts and walked over to her sister.

"Dolly?" she asked.

Her sister rested her head back on the pillow and shook her head ever so slightly. She inhaled deeply before she started speaking. The light was shining clearly on her sweat soaked face, and she looked drunk on illness.

"Marianne…tell me about mama," her voice shook as she spoke quietly. Marianne had to lean in to hear her properly, and when she did she was slightly surprised at the request. It had been quite a while since their mother had died and left them alone. But her sister had always been the curious one, and it was only expected that she ask questions as such, since she never had as much time with their mother as Marianne.

Marianne did suspect that her sister was slightly delirious but she went to sit next to her anyway, stroking her blonde hair as she did so.

"Mama was a remarkable woman," Marianne began, smiling at herself, remembering, "When you were small, she used to pick you up and twirl you around laughing, calling you her little dolly. You used to be so happy, dolly. So very happy."

She paused and checked on her sister who had the resemblance of a smile on her face. She carried on, "Mama used to like cooking for us. She loved cooking pasta, and then adding the herbs that she grew in our garden to it. Sage, rosemary, thyme…" she trailed off.

She looked down at her sister, smiling fondly and discovered she was talking to herself. Her sister had fallen into a deep sleep, which thankfully looked peaceful and free of any sickness. Her dainty chest rose in a steady rhythm as she breathed which was a very good sign to Marianne, but her complexion still looked pasty and white.

Marianne sighed and was just about to get up when she felt her sister clutch her arm. She turned alarmed, only to find her sister still sleeping. She had held onto Marianne only subconsciously.

"Marianne…shouldn't have………mama…"

Marianne only caught a few of the words her sister seemed to be mumbling incoherently in her sleep. Sleep talk, that was all it was, right?

Her sister could not possibly know of what she had done. That she had mu-

No. It was not possible.

She was letting her thoughts get the better of her.

But just thinking about the life she had taken so unfairly, so closely after she had thought about the unfair death of her own mother made Marianne want to pull at her hair and scream. Scream and scream until her lungs burned and her throat turned into ash.

Tears soaked her cheeks and slid smoothly and silently down to her chin, as she stared numbly at her hands yet again.

For surely, she had taken the life of someone's son, brother, nephew, cousin or even father. She had done what had been done to her mother. What she had mourned days for and blindly sought unattainable revenge for.

She had done the same thing as a ruthless murderer. She was as low as the monsters that had taken her mother's innocent life.

She was a cold blooded killer.

* * *

"Uncle, you know how much I despise her and her stupid parties-"

"Marianne, as much as I dislike the lady and her ways, I wish you would not speak of her in such a manner. She is family after all," the man who was her sole guardian spoke in a gentle fatherly but stern voice.

"More is the pity."

He ignored Marianne's mumbled reply and carried on, "After all she has done for y- us, it is only proper that we repay her kindness by abiding to her one wish. You know, she personally asked for your presence at her ball."

"Uncle, we both know her intentions lay otherwise. No doubt she is going to 'introduce' me to some certain people or just tell me about what a useless drunkard my fa-"

"Marianne," Phillip Miller said sternly.

"I'm sorry," Marianne sighed, she didn't know what was wrong with her. She was not one to put people down; she was just feeling a bit stressed- yes, that must be it.

She tried a different approach, "But you know I can't go, with Dolly so sick and everything…" Marianne trailed off hoping that her uncle would just let it go this once.

He sighed. "You have done everything in your power to look after her. It is not healthy for you to stay cooped up in the room with her; you know there is a fair chance that the illness might spread to you. You need to get out more often. Don't waste your youth, Marianne. Dolly would not want to be the cause of you missing out on anything."

Marianne refrained herself from making a sarcastic comment about 'missing out'.

Well, her aunt's party couldn't be _that_ bad.

Sure, there would be all those obnoxious ladies looking down on her constantly, but Marianne supposed she had to show her 'gratitude' to her aunt.

_After all she had done for them_, Marianne thought with disdain, mimicking her uncle's words. Yet again she was surprised at herself for being so hard and miserable. Stress had definitely got the better of her.

She sighed in exasperation knowing that she had lost once again.

"Alright, uncle. But this is the last time…"

* * *

"Mary Anne, I'm so glad that you could make it!"

Marianne didn't know which was worse, her aunt actually pretending to be nice to her or acting, as normal, cold towards her. Right now the latter seemed quite pleasant.

She tried to force a smile.

"I was dreadfully sorry to hear about our young dolly."

Marianne gritted her teeth, why her aunt insisted on calling her little sister dolly was beyond her, but it aggravated her nonetheless.

"I would have liked to have invited her too, now that she is of the age, but was disappointed to hear she had been very ill."

God forbid, should her little sister have to come to her aunt's 'balls'.

"Now is there anything I can do to help? Would you require my assistance in contacting a suitable doctor?" Her aunt inquired innocently. But by which she meant, do you want me to use my rich connections to get you a high-ranking, expensive doctor?

Marianne shook her head politely, "No thank you, we have been managing fine. She is getting better."

Her aunt, decked out in a lavish royal blue silk gown and delicate matching pearls, frowned. "That's good to hear." But her thin, drawn on eyebrows were still pulled down to a frown, making her look a little older. She was about to say something else, but, thankfully for Marianne, was called by someone.

Her aunt looked at her almost apologetically, which made Marianne think of all the drama plays her aunt had acted in during her youth, and said, "I must go to greet the other guests, but I'll be back. There is someone I would like to introduce you to. Get yourself acquainted with some of the people. Do _not_ stand around doing nothing."

With that her aunt was off, blue gown trailing behind her as she strode regally to a couple far away from Marianne, for which she was more than thankful.

With the absence of her aunt, Marianne found herself inspecting the ball.

Marianne had to admit, though grudgingly, that her aunt's 'balls' were beautiful and elaborately decorated. Her aunt, the famous Eleanor Clarrisse Marciello was actually famous for her parties and designing abilities. Although Marianne disliked her aunt, she had to respect the lady for her achievement in society as a woman. Marianne often wondered how she had managed it.

Tonight, her aunt had chosen a light, golden theme. The chandeliers were both high up in the ceiling and on stands. Their glass polished to every corner and every inch, so they glistened and reflected the golden light they gave off. They lit up the whole hall beautifully.

On the huge ceiling to floor glass windows, gold coloured curtains stood draped across the smooth surface. Over it was another layer of soft, crinkly cloth that Marianne couldn't name, but it finished the effect lavishly.

There were various flowers around the hall on glass tables, or gold clothed tables. Yellow daffodils, orange dahlias, white lilies and so on. Marianne found herself admiring the whole scene, but also thinking about what a complete waste of money it was.

As a young woman, she found herself wishing that she would meet someone at the ball. Someone to dance with and enjoy it with. She found herself searching for that someone. Wishing that she could enjoy the party as a young woman,

But as the person who had lived her past and carried around so much responsibility, she found herself standing at the corner of the hall, doing absolutely nothing, just as her aunt had warned her vehemently not to.

Marianne's life was full of half hearted wishes.

* * *

Landon Daen Le Morgan was bored. Extremely and utterly bored. The so called ball hadn't even started yet. He was early. Annoyingly early.

So early that the beautiful ladies hadn't even arrived yet. There were just some old couples milling around the hall, greeting everyone. Annoying him more than anything else. And it was getting hot.

He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

But just as he was thinking it, he cast a wary eye around the hall, in hope for something. And he caught sight of a beautiful but plain peach coloured orangey gown.

His prayers had been heard.

The lady in question was standing in a dejected corner of the hall, next to a beautiful vase of orange daffodils she fit so perfectly with, looking dejected herself.

She looked different to most of the ladies that attended these kind of balls. Her dress was plain, as he had noticed before, with none of the excessive ribbons and laces that all dresses seemed to be adorned with nowadays. Her neck was bare apart from a single silver chain with an oval amber pendant that matched her dress and her one drop earrings. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a simple bun, no elaborate hairstyle, no unnecessary hairpin. It exposed her light skin, which appeared to be rather soft. Her dress had a square cut neckline, and to his great surprise, refrained from showing her bosom.

A mystery girl that dressed respectably but not lavishly. She was simple, but pretty enough for the evening.

Landon was about to make his way over to her and entertain himself when he was interrupted by none other than the hostess making her way directly over to him, in a long expensive dark blue gown. He stopped and regarded her.

"Ah, Master Landon. Just the person I wanted to see. I trust I find you well?" she inquired, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Quite well, Lady Eleanor."

"That is good to hear. I'm very glad you could make it. I wanted you to meet my niece; I don't think you have been introduced before. She's a bright girl. Of course that is if you were not engaged in anything else."

Landon was on the verge of annoyance, did it look like he was engaged in anything else?

Not receiving an answer, the hostess nodded her head and led the way.

As fate and co incidence would have it, she headed straight towards the direction of the peach coloured mystery. Landon chuckled inwardly. Some things were just meant to be.

As they got closer to the lady, who had was now turned away from them and was unaware of there advancing, Landon thought he recognized her from somewhere.

_Must be from another party, _he thought to himself. But as he got closer and his eyes glanced towards her neck, something stirred in his memory.

And just as he was watching her, he remembered where and when he had seen her. And how.

He smirked. He had been wrong. This was going to be perhaps the most interesting night in a long time.

Lady Eleanor stopped right behind her and said, "Ah Mary Anne there you are. This is the someone I wanted you to meet. This is Landon Daen Le Morgan."

The lady, Marianne turned slowly, no doubt a fake smile lighting up her features.

"How do you do," she said as she gave a small courtesy. She didn't even seem to be in the room.

That will change soon, Landon thought.

He took her white gloved hand, pressed it to his lips and drawled, "Miss Marianne, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Marianne looked up startled out of her thoughts. Something flickered in her eyes, before they widened in horror and disbelief.

Landon could not resist sending her a mental note, _Again. _

The look on her pretty face was priceless as she continued staring up at him.

This was proving to be a most interesting night.

* * *

**Author's Note:** He-ello, beautiful people. How's it going? Its awfully hot here in Londodn, almost unbearably... Anyway, this is the next chapter of Cobwebs and Thyme, which I should have uploaded ages ago, but couldn't be bothered to write it. :( I had fun writing it though. I've always loved reading stories set in the past, when it was 'absolutely scandolous' to dance with someone more than three times or something, so its great fun writing it too. Anyway I just want to thank my wonderful reviewers:

**The little twitch on my eyebrow:** Predicatble of you to maon and whine and moan and whine and...you get the idea? But thanks for the compliment about my mind. :D Twisted indeed. And for your info, he was so not her soulmate, and dude hes not even dead! For crying out loud woman! The guy's not dorky! And no I'm not gonna abandon BOBD, as you might have realiseed. And no-o (looks around nervously), I didn't steal anything!

**Doggy-** So nice of you to share your rambles with us poor unaware people. And i will get a decent summary...just when I get around to think of one. And yep, the guy's back and nope hes not her soulmate- so you're right on both accounts. And are you by any chance, making fun of me!

**Salvatore Shan NW:** Yay, for the people! Someone who knows the highwayman! But tell me what you thinks going to happen, I want to know your thoughts...muhahaha. Erm, thanks for the review I really appreciated it. :D

**Twilight-staruby: **You're one to talk (insert accusing tone):D Thanks for th review and beautiful compliments, personally, I agree with you too. ;) In every aspect. Thnks again. :)

**Strekoza: **We meet again! And you're one of the clever people who actually got the fact that our vamp dude wasn't dead:) So thats good! He's not really dead anyway! But I do have to meantion, i have a bad habit of killing off my characters, but it probably won't happen in this story. :) Thnx for the review!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one won't be coming out for a month or so. Because I'm going on Ho-olida-ay! (Insert Green Day holiday here).


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